


After the Fact

by Lancre_witch



Category: Legacy of Kain, MediEvil (Video Games)
Genre: I don't, I really really wish I had a decent explanation for this, M/M, Oral Sex, Skeleton Sex, ish?, the fact that there is a tag for that concerns me almost as much as the fact that I'm writing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 12:22:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12108630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lancre_witch/pseuds/Lancre_witch
Summary: Once Zarok is defeated, Raziel and Daniel find some time for themselves.(Could be seen as an alternate, shippy ending to Lost Soul - the fic I should be writing. Don’t worry – that one will remain gen)





	After the Fact

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic with a diagram of plate armour next to me. If you don’t want to read it in the same manner, here’s a quick list of relevant words:  
> pauldrons = on shoulders  
> cuisses = over thighs  
> greaves = over lower legs  
> tassets = plates which hang down over the thighs

Daniel and Raziel entered the Troll’s Head as planned, but nothing else about the night had gone as expected. Hours ago, they had agreed to go for a drink if the somehow survived the battle, but some things seemed far more important after feelings had made themselves known in the bubbling elation and relief of escaping the falling castle.

A handful of coins on the bar had ensured them space enough and time enough for and act which should have been impossible. The door to the small room was pushed closed and teeth met and scraped in an approximation of a kiss.

Raziel’s cowl slipped to the floor unheeded as he was backed towards the narrow bed. He sat on the rough woollen sheets, revelling in the feeling of hands running along his ribs, exploring, searching, wanting. It had been so long since he was last wanted. The pads of his claws pressed gently against the back of Daniel’s cranium, urging him closer, and reached towards the buckles of his breastplate.

“May I?” he asked against a half-exposed clavicle.

Dan mumbled his enthusiastic assent, shifting his weight to allow the wraith access.

 

Removing a full harness can take some time, but this was a world away from being aided by a squire. Raziel removed each item as if it were a sacrament. His breastplate hit the floor and his breath hitched as Raziel’s hands reached under his shirt, brushing his lower ribs, then further down, fingers teasingly playing along his spinal column, stopping before they reached his pelvis.

He huffed in disappointment when the touches stopped altogether.

“Patience,” Raziel murmured and stood to remove his pauldrons. There was barely enough space between them for him to fumble the buckles open, but neither man thought of stepping back. Finally, he was able to remove Daniel’s shirt and press his palate against bone as cool as this borrowed room, in the closest he could give to a reverent kiss. He tasted of dark, forgotten places, but to the wraith the bones carried the taste of the soul which animated them; his kindness, his new-found bravery, the tang of nerves underlying his anticipation.

Raziel moved his head back. “Step back please.”

Daniel complied and he dropped to his knees to remove his greaves and cuisses. Raziel spared a thought to thank whoever had designed them to fasten at the back. Removing the first cuisse meant he had both hands brushing against sensitive femurs and one arm very close to his arse. Temptingly so, especially with no tassets to impede him…

The plate metal was discarded with many a lingering touch and the odd ‘accidental’ brush against the side of his pelvis. Had he been living, Daniel’s cheeks would have been flushed red by the time he was standing in nothing but his codpiece. Raziel, still knelt between his legs, looked at him, silently asking permission. He nodded; the curved piece of metal was not doing much to preserve his modesty in any case.

Raziel cast the final article aside and wondered what, exactly, he should do next. Neither of them were equipped with the things traditionally required for this. The soul was so close to the surface, perhaps it was possible for him to…

“Tell me if this hurts,” Raziel said and shuffled forwards until Daniel’s pubis brushed the back of his throat. He lay his hands on his pelvis and started sucking gently, trying not to think of all the ways this could go wrong.

At the first startled little yelp, he thought it had, but it was followed by a hand tangled in his hair and a series of gasps and moans. Encouraged, he started sucking harder, tilting and moving his head to see what got the best response.

It started to feel almost natural until Dan gasped out, “Woah, woah, stop.”

Raziel rocked back on his heels and looked up questioningly, worried he had been too rough, or dug his claws in too much. Humans were so fragile.

Dan was looking embarrassed again. “It doesn’t seem fair, you just…” he tailed off. “C’me here.” He lifted Raziel onto the bed and kissed him as best he could.

Teeth scraped against Raziel’s shoulder, blunter than he was used to, and he tilted his head back, automatically expecting a bite to follow. When it didn’t, he wrapped a leg around Daniel’s waist and pulled him down on top of him.

It took a few minutes of shifting and fumbling before they found a position which engendered any pleasure. Bone scraped against bone, their ribcages threatened to interlock, and they ended up in a giggling mess more than once before giving up on more traditional methods.

 

Now, this was better, Daniel thought, lying beside Raziel, able to admire his lover whilst pleasuring him. Raziel was beautifully vocal. A hand stroking against his sacrum and coccyx was enough to make him whine and gasp for more. Daniel chucked and complied, his hand snaking under the leg which was wrapped around his own to rub against his pelvic floor, then gasped when his touch was reciprocated.

Raziel whined and gasped, trying to find some friction against Daniel’s pelvis, not letting the rhythm of his own hands falter. He wondered if in this writhing mess of bone and tattered flesh he would somehow be able to- “Ah! Yes, just there.”

The familiar sense of building orgasm seemed strange, almost separated from the shell he inhabited. He pulled Daniel closer, unnecessary breath coming faster, then the world shattered in a moment of all-consuming ecstasy and he couldn’t help but cry out.

He remembered himself enough to start moving his hands again, clumsily at first, but soon stroking in a steady rhythm. After a couple of minutes he shuffled down the bed and, when Daniel made no complaints, once again made use of the remnants of his mouth.

Daniel was barely coherent, the sounds from the bar below loud enough for him to abandon any attempt at keeping quiet. It was almost worrying how good – whatever Raziel was doing – was and for a jealous moment he wondered if he had been much experienced in life. Not that that mattered now; Raziel was beautiful and here and _his_ and felt so, so _good_ , especially when he did _that_. “Ah!”

Once more in one another’s arms, the woollen blanket draped uselessly around their cold forms, Raziel idly traced patterns along Daniel’s ribs. “When I take you to Nosgoth, you shall have silk sheets and feather beds. Such a room as this is not worthy of you.”

“You’re here. That’s enough.”


End file.
